There’s a stage when recovering from an accident hits a plateau. One week, you have nice, morale-boosting day-to-day improvements (more movement, less pain etc). The next, you’re frustrated with the apparent lack of progress on the problems that remain.
In my case, the frustration’s been all about my back.
While the most obvious visible damage – the collarbone and the shoulder-blade – has been improving nicely, my time on the bike has been severely limited by the slower-recovering cracked vertebrae. I got to the start of last week unable to push past about 15 mile (25km) rides. The riding itself is pretty much pain-free now, but having to stop to relieve the ache in my weakened back every twenty minutes is, erm, a pain. And after an hour or so, the weakness seemed to spread around the rest of my body, forcing me back to the sofa to recover. For a couple of days.
Some might say that it’s unreasonable to expect to be back to full speed two months after damaging your spine in a serious road accident. That may be true, but it’s very, very irritating, to say the least.
Still, I managed to get out and about for short loops, continuing my rediscovery of the local country lanes. And I was climbing better than I was while riding the same hills last year (before the trip). Clearly, cycle touring does get you fitter. And it takes a while to lose all the improvements while convalescing. Which is nice.
Then there was a breakthrough. I was back at the physio last week. And it turns out that he’s a genius. He did his usual routine of a couple of minutes’ visual inspection of my shoulder. He nagged me (again) about my posture. I had a bit of a moan about my back. And so he taught me the Magic Shrug.
I didn’t know it was magic at the time. But I performed it a few times, as instructed. The next night, I went to sleep on my front for the first time, as my back seemed more comfortable. I woke up late. I woke up without an ache for the first time. The magic was happening.
Encouraged, I went on a nostalgia trip the next day. The run out to the old Severn Bridge and back was one I used to do a lot when I was a kid (after I realised that 20 miles on a bike is really not that far – even on a five-speed clunker, as it was in those days). It’s roughly ten miles each way. I made the return trip with no problems. I didn’t need to collapse into a comfy chair when I got back. And the next morning? I could have done it again. Except that the English early summer was doing its thing (driving rain and high winds).
So, with the Shrug working its magic, I feel like I’m back on track. If 20 miles isn’t a problem, then why would 40 be? Or 85?
Well, 85 is the number. I’ve finally signed up for my first sportive ride; the Magnificat at Newbury on 12th July. Appropriately enough, that’s a year since my departure from Greenwich to ride around the world. So, about six weeks to get myself together for 85 miles in a day (just over 135km in new money). Hopefully, an achievable target on the way back to full fitness. And a return to loaded touring later in the year. And maybe, just maybe, a return to Thailand to finish the ride…
With the Magic Shrug in my arsenal, what could possibly go wrong?